


Maybe Today, it'll be better

by Mouse (clandestineAbattoir)



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Baking, Christmas Dinner, Dysfunctional Family, Fainting, Family Feels, He's Logan's grandpa, Mentions of Mental Illness, Panic Attacks, Patton is everyone's dad, Virgil and deceit are brothers, except Logan, failed baking attempts, just read it and itll make sense, these tags are a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-24 03:09:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17696516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clandestineAbattoir/pseuds/Mouse
Summary: After having a fallout with his father, Virgil hasn't spoken to him in 10 years. Now, forced to confront him at Christmas dinner, what will he say? Meanwhile, a brother, a tenant turned son, and a dissafected teen try and fail to recreate the past. Can they fix the unfixable?





	Maybe Today, it'll be better




 

Virgil sighed, checking over his purple plaid overshirt for any lint once again. In reality, he was just procrastinating, but he didn’t want to admit that to himself. His twin brother stood in the doorway, looking fucking immaculate in a yellow button-down, black suit vest, and black slacks, as usual, watching Virgil fuss.

   “You nervous?” Dee asked, somewhat rhetorically. Of course Virgil was nervous. He was always nervous. But especially now.

   “You know, Dad isn’t gonna like, freak out at you if there's a piece of lint on your shirt.”

   “Shut up.”

   Dee let out a little hum, approaching him and picking a stray white thread off of his shirt and flicking it away. “You missed one.”

   “Thanks,” he mumbled. 

   “Can I ask you a question?”

   “Shoot.”

   “How come you haven’t talked to Dad in so long?”

   Virgil froze. He had been expecting the question, but it still knocked all of the air out of him. How did he explain that as much as he would love to have a relationship with his father, it wasn’t going to happen, because Patton didn’t want to talk to him? 

   “Virgy?”

   The nickname was like a slap in the face to Virgil. It had been so long since Dee had called him that, it had to have been what, ten, fifteen years? It reminded them of when they had just moved in with their adopted father, and Virgil’s panic attacks got the best of him more often and not. God, how things have changed. But also, how they’ve stayed the same. He still feared that their father hated him in secret, but now, that fear was much more plausible. The thought was nauseating. How could he have been so stupid? He knew Patton didn't want to get help, why did he push it if he knew it was just going to make it worse?

   A hand on his shoulder jerked him out of his spiralling thoughts.

“Virgy. Virgil. Breathe, man. You’re okay.” 

Virgil almost laughed. Ten years ago, those would have been fighting words from Dee. How Dee had changed too. Through years of therapy, he had stopped talking in opposites. The first time he spoke like a normal person, it threw Virgil for one hell of a loop. It almost made him motion sick just thinking about. 

He took a deep breath in and offered his brother a watery smile. Dee squeezed his shoulder in response. 

“Listen, you don’t- you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want. But you should. Because whatever shit Dad decides to throw at you, I wanna be there for you, because you're my brother.”

“Its- its nothing Dad did, I’m just a dumbass who can’t keep his mouth shut,” Virgil ran a hand through his hair nervously, giving himself a glance in the mirror. He was gonna look a nervous wreck before they even got into the car at this rate. Nothing unusual, he supposed.

“I just- remember how Dad used to have all.those nervous breakdowns all the time but would just lock himself in his room instead of, I dunno, getting help? I tried to make him get help and he really didn't want to. We ended up getting into an argument about it and- I said some things I shouldn't have- and now he hates me. “

“Lie of omission,” Dee accused. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I think maybe you both said some things you shouldn't have said. I also don't think he hates you but that's a debate I don't want to get into. Now, I realize that there are way better times to bring this up, but there are two people you don't know that are gonna be there.”

   “What?” Virgil hissed, his eyes landing on Dee's face venomously. Dee held up his hands in surrender. 

   “Yeah, they've been coming to Christmas for a few years. This guy that used to live in the building Dad owns and his son. The guy’s only a few years younger than us. Kid’s 17.”

   Virgil went to say something, then paused. 

   “Wait… if he’s only a few years younger than-”

   “The kid’s adopted, forgot to mention that.”

   “Oh. Lie of omission.”

   “Shut up,” Dee gently shoved his twin brother, who just stuck out his tongue. “You almost ready to go?”

   Virgil took a deep breath, giving himself one last once-over in the mirror. He still thought Dee was dressed so much better than he was, but there was no changing that. Whatever he wore, Dee would look better than him in whatever he wore. Which was weird, because they were twins, but such was life, he supposed.

   “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

 

The car ride there was relatively silent. Dee fiddled with the radio every time they got to a stoplight, and normally Virgil would be fighting him about it, but all of his energy was currently focused on maintaining his thin veil of composure. He was not gonna freak out in the car, because if he did that they were gonna be late and he was not gonna stand for that shit one bit. 

Dee glanced over at him nervously. He was catching on to the fact that Virgil was being weirder than normal. He turned the radio to some bubblegum pop station and Virgil felt his eye twitch, but he still didn't dare say anything. He was afraid he would snap at Dee if he did.

Dee’s expression grew more concerned when Virgil didn’t respond to the upbeat synthy hell that was blasting from the radio speakers. He ended up just turning the radio off, and they sat in suffocating silence for the rest of the drive. By the time they got to the familiar house, Dee’s grip on the steering wheel was white-knuckled, and Virgil was sitting his sadness on an elbow, staring out the window. He noticed there were two cars in the driveway already, Patton's familiar baby blue jeep, and another beat down red car. That must be the other guy and his son. Virgil felt himself bristling already and tried to shake it off. He hadn’t even met them yet and he already hated them. Hah. Just the way he felt about Dad when he met him. He didn’t know whether or not that was a good sign.

“We’re here,” Dee said.

“Mhm.” 

Dee looked over at him, that look in his eyes again. 

“You gonna be okay?”

“Maybe. Probably. I dunno. We’ll find out.” He got out of the car, seeing Patton’s silhouette behind the curtains, heading towards the door. He must have seen them. 

The door opened quite forcefully, and there stood Patton, with the same general aesthetic he had had as long as the twins had known him. Cardigan tied around his shoulders, polo, khakis. He looked softer now, somehow. A little more grey hair, a little less hard around the edges. There were more smile lines. 

“Boys!” Patton cried, laugh lines wrinkling at the corners of his eyes, “Come inside, you’re gonna be snowmen in minutes at this rate!” 

Dee grabbed Virgil’s wrist and dragged him inside, clearly much happier than he had been just a minute ago. It was a small comfort to know that even after all this time, Dee was still excited to see Patton. But then again, Dee has always been the more optimistic of the two.

Patton pulled Dee into a tight hug, and Virgil hung back awkwardly, ignoring the pang of longing for that to be him. He wondered when things were gonna blow up again, or maybe, some small part of him dared hope, if they were gonna blow up again. 

The house looked almost the same as it did ten years ago. It didn’t surprise him, Patton had never been one to let go of much. Bit of a hoarder, in private. He had a storage closet full of memories that Virgil knew he wasn't proud of having, but he just couldn't bring himself to let go of. It still had sort of suffocating coziness. More like a grandmother than a father. 

He looked over at Patton and his brother, just in time for them to stop hugging and for Patton to then turn to him. Fuck. So this was happening now. They stared at each other for a few awkward moments, but to Virgil, they dragged out into eons. Patton looked like he was waiting for something, but whatever it was, Virgil wasn't sure he could give it to him. He had no idea where he would even start once he opened his mouth. An apology? An awkward hello? An “it's been so long?”

Luckily, Virgil was spared from having to make any big decisions by another man who came bouncing into the living room. This must have been the guy Dee mentioned earlier. 

“Dee! It’s been forever since I’ve seen you! How’ve you been, bro?” The man shouted, quickly going over to envelop Dee in a hug, and Virgil felt jealousy rear its ugly head in the depths of his soul. Dee was his brother, not whoever the hell this douchebag was. That same bristling feeling from earlier washed over his body like a wave as he dragged Dee off into the kitchen. He definitely didn’t like that guy. 

Now it was just him and Patton, standing in the living room in excruciating silence. You know what, fuck Dee too for leaving him. Keep him, mysterious douchebag. He’s all yours.

“Dee said he didn't know whether you would come this year,” Patton finally broke the silence. 

“I wasn't sure either until yesterday.” Virgil conceded. 

Patton nodded, and the conversation seemed to fizzle out as soon as it started. The awkwardness seemed to press on Virgil's chest, suffocating him. Patton didn't look any more comfortable than he did. 

Well, he guessed it was his turn. Might as well start somewhere. 

“... It's been a while.” 

“Yeah,” Patton nodded to himself, “I'm glad you came. Christmas isn't the same without you.” 

“Really? You seemed to replace me fast enough.” 

Virgil resisted the urge to slap a hand over his mouth. Wow, he should not have said that, judging by the look of hurt that flashed momentarily over Patton’s face, being replaced with that same steady smile as though it were never there. Another thing that was the same. 

“I didn't replace you, kiddo! Roman just is like another son to me! I have three sons!” 

That pressing anxiety that was building in Virgil snapped, morphing like an animal into ugly, hot-blooded anger. 

“Is that why you haven't invited me to Christmas dinner in ten years? And why Roman seems to know Dee so well he has no problem dragging him away and ignoring me? And you hugged Dee as soon as he got into the fucking door and didn't even acknowledge me until now? No matter how much I tried to fucking apologize for something that wasn't even my fault because I was just trying to help you before I lost another fucking parent! Is that why?!”

His face was hot and probably flushed. Patton stood stiffly in stunned silence. Dee and two other people popped their heads out of the kitchen, sharing nervous glances with each other. But Virgil didn't notice any of this. All he noticed was the way his chest was moving up and down a lot faster than it should and the fact that he just said a bunch of stuff that he shouldn't have said and that the floor was suddenly a lot closer to his face.

When he woke up- wait, when had he gone to sleep? Oh well- it took him a couple seconds to get his bearings. Because this was for fucking sure not his bedroom. It was bright and smelled too much like Patton's living room. That's because it was Patton's living room, he realized. 

“Oh. He's awake.” Some teenager that he didn't recognize observed as he sat up. He looked like a nerd. Square framed glasses, necktie. Couldn’t be older than 17,18. He didn’t seem too concerned about anything. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Is the first thing that came tumbling out of his mouth. Wow, his filter really turned off today huh. The back of his mind, some distant part that was still processing what happened immediately before he passed out, wondered where Patton was, but the rest of him was too numb to care. Maybe all the yelling had been cathartic. 

“Ah. Pardon me, My name is Logan. I’m Roman’s son?”

“Hi Logan. I don’t know who Roman is so that tells me nothing. Is that my dad’s… ‘Other Son’?” He didn’t like saying those words out loud.  

“Yes. Speaking of, Patton told me to go get him when you awoke, so I suppose I should go do that,” he informed, getting up to leave as a bolt of panic shot through Virgil.

“Wait- kid. What happened after I…”

“Passed out?” Logan guessed. Virgil nodded. “Well, Patton screamed so loud I was shocked that none of the neighbors called the police, and then Uncle Dee was at your side so quickly I thought he had teleported for a second and he put you on the couch, and then pulled Patton into the other room and they’ve been talking ever since. About what I am not sure, but both of them seemed distraught. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go inform them you’re awake now.” And with that, he got up and left.

Patton burst in seconds later, bounding over to Virgil much too fast for someone his age and enveloping him in a hug. It was a little bone-crushing, but in a way that was almost comforting. He hadn't gotten a bone-crushing hug in a decade. His dad let go too soon.

“Virgil, you scared me so much!” He exclaimed. “One second you were screaming and crying and the next second you were on the floor! I didn’t know what to do.”

“Yeah, bro, you haven’t done that since like, sixth grade. I don't think Patton ever saw you do that. He was freaking out.” Dee walked over, a glass of water in his hand. He handed it to Virgil who took a sip gratefully.

“Now, I think you two should talk about some things,” Dee looked pointedly at both of them. They seemed to simultaneously curl into themselves. Like father like son, apparently.

“I’m gonna leave you two to talk this out. Logan, come on, I have a project I want your help on,” he commended and walked into the kitchen, the teen at his heels. It was just Virgil and Patton. Again. Virgil decided it would be a perfect time to study the Christmas tree. A fake one, obviously. Nobody in the family condoned the cutting down of a real tree. Half of the ornaments were family heirlooms, impossibly old and fragile looking. The other half were a hodgepodge mixture of cartoon references and ornaments Virgil had made when he got really stressed one holiday season and needed an outlet. Good to know Patton still kept those.

\---

Dee ushered Logan into the kitchen, where Roman was already situated, rummaging through the cabinets and mumbling to himself. 

“I know it’s here somewhere… Pops has never not had cinnamon in the house, as long as I’ve known him, at least.”

“Yeah, that one’s actually Virgil’s fault. He loved cinnamon when we were younger. Well, he still does, but you get it.”

“Aha, found it!” Roman produced a canister of cinnamon from the cabinet, eyes all aglow in triumph. 

“Alright! What else do we need?” Dee flitted over to the open recipe book, the particular page he was looking for was dirtied from years of use, but the recipe was still legible. “Uh… Sugar?”

Roman lifted up a bag of Domino sugar. “Check.”

“Butter?”

“Yup.”

“Eggs.”

Roman slid over to the fridge and peeked inside.

“Affirmative.”

“Flour.”

“On the counter.”

“Baking powder?”

“Uh….”

“It’s also on the counter,” Logan interjected.

“Thanks, kid. Salt?”

“You’re gonna have to go in the living room for that.”

“Dad, I think that was a bit mean.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Sorry, Dee.”

“Its… fine? Anyway, that's all we really need, so let's get this party started, shall we?” Dee grinned.

“I wasn't aware we were having a party.”

“Expression, Logan.”

“Ah. I should write that down…”

\---

“Did you really think I replaced you?” Patton’s voice was near inaudible, and his Cheshire smile faltered for a moment, before dropping entirely. 

Virgil let out a breath, playing with the buttons on the sleeves of his flannel mindlessly. Did he? Part of him said yes, that he knew Patton didn't want him anymore so he got another son to replace him, but the rational part of his brain was saying that that was ridiculous. Which was probably right. 

“I mean, rationally, no, that’s stupid, but also a little bit?” Virgil explained, staring at his hands as he spoke. “It has been ten years, Patton.”

“I thought you didn't want to be my son anymore.”

Virgil looked up, and Patton was staring at his hands, worrying his lower lip. He couldn't tell if Patton was about to cry, but he looked upset nonetheless.

“What?”

“We didn’t exactly leave off on good terms the last time we saw each other. We both said a lot of bad things and- the last thing you said to me was ‘I give up’ before you walked out the door and didn’t come back. I didn’t know how I was supposed to take that. And then you didn't call for a week so I just assumed that you wanted nothing to do with me.” 

“Dad-” It was Patton’s turn to look up in shock, and Virgil realized he’d been calling him Patton earlier. Weird. “I didn't call because I thought you didn't want me to talk to you. I thought you hated me. I really didn't blame you, either. We got pretty nasty but- I was just trying to help, you know?”

“Virgil- kiddo. I didn’t need help.” 

Virgil ran a hand through his hair. To start this argument again and risk the shaky sort of progress he’d made? His dad had been suffering, clearly still was. He just wasn’t going to admit it without a lot of pushing.

“Dad, I thought that was a load of bull, and really, I still think it is. Dee used to do the same thing. That whole ‘Everything’s fine’ schtick. I saw it in you and you just- you weren't reaching out, and I could see it affecting you and I couldn’t just sit there and watch you fall apart inside. Because you and Dee are all I’ve got and if I don’t look out for you I couldn’t live with myself.”

Patton, gently, rolled his eyes. “Kiddo, I’m your dad! I look out for you, not the other way around. You don’t need to worry about my problems. I’m great, I promise.”

“If I don’t worry about you, who will? Because you really don’t seem to. Patton, I’m a grown adult, you really don't have to hide your feelings to spare me the worry.”

Patton looked taken aback, and Virgil worried that he had fucked up again. But then Patton spoke again. 

“I suppose… you raise a good point, but I just… Feel bad. I don’t want to burden anyone else with my problems.”

An invisible weight lifted off of Virgil’s shoulders. He had admitted it. He had finally fucking admitted that not everything was fine. It was a start. 

“Patton- Dad. You wouldn’t be burdening anyone by reaching out. We all have bad days, and we all get sad. But what makes the bad days and the sadness better is having people around you who love you and want to see you happy, and they’ll help you get there. Don't you realize? We want to help you. Because you’re important to us.”

He reached out and grabbed Patton’s hand, looking at him. “Dad, please, let us help you. You don’t have to suffer alone.”

Patton smiled, a real, genuine smile, before enveloping Virgil in a hug. It was nice. Virgil hadn't gotten that type of good hug from anyone other than Dee (and even then, it was rare. Dee wasn’t a fan of hugs;) for a while. He felt secure, like a rock climbing harness. Except that secureness wasn't preventing him from falling to a certain and brutally bloody death at the hands of a jagged cliff face. Virgil didn't like rock climbing. 

Their hug was cut short by a loud crash coming from the kitchen. Both of them jumped back, looked at the kitchen, looked at each other, and rushed in.

 

The scene they were greeted with was an… interesting one. A cloud of cinnamon was settling over the stove, which was rapidly catching on fire despite Logan keeping a fire extinguisher trained on it. Dee was carefully mopping up about six eggs that were cracked on the floor, and roman was leaning dramatically against the wall, looking faint and crying.

“What the hell did you guys do!?” Virgil shouted, gesturing all around the kitchen. 

“We tried-” Logan stopped the fire extinguisher, as that situation seemed to be fine now, “we were trying to bake cinnamon cookies I believe? Dee informed us that you enjoyed them so we collectively decided to take a metaphorical stab at them. We clearly were not successful.”

Virgil looked over at Patton, who has his head buried in his hands next to him. He didn't blame him. They basically ruined his kitchen. 

“Kiddos, I appreciate the effort, but maybe never try this again, huh?” 

They all nodded. 

“Now.. to attempt saving the kitchen enough to actually have Christmas dinner.”

“Or we could just order pizza,” Virgil suggested.

“Yeah. Let’s just order pizza.”

  
  



End file.
